


Ben the Spy

by ASadHermitStory



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dramatic Irony, Force Ghost Obi-Wan Kenobi, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Friendship, Gen, Identity Porn, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASadHermitStory/pseuds/ASadHermitStory
Summary: “Are you a spy?” FN-2187 asked without preamble. FN-2187 definitely wasn’t a spy, for he was not capable of disguising his eagerness.“Hmm. Yes, perhaps I am.” The man stroked his bearded chin thoughtfully. “From a certain point of view. You can call me ‘Ben,’ by the way.”
Relationships: Finn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105
Collections: 2020 Obi-Wan Kenobi Gen Exchange





	Ben the Spy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EffieAgo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffieAgo/gifts).



The man was weird, yeah, okay, no doubt about that. At six years old, FN-2187 was only a first-year cadet, but even _he_ knew that First Order grooming standards strictly prohibited facial hair. And it wasn’t just the beard. The man wasn’t wearing a uniform either, his loose-fitting, earthen-toned civilian clothing fluttering as he passed FN-2187 in the corridor.

Weirder still was that the man seemed to turn no heads besides FN-2187’s. Everyone else acted like he wasn’t there at all. FN-2187 reminded himself once more that first-year cadets were supposed to mind their own business, and acting like the man wasn’t there at all was just business as usual among the troops. The only logical conclusion, therefore, was that the beard and civilian clothing had to be a disguise, which would mean the the man had to be some sort of covert agent—a spy, in other words.

Well, wasn’t that exciting? FN-2187 couldn’t help wanting to know more about the man.

He saw him several more times—in the corridors, the mess hall, the barracks, the back of the classroom—before he finally worked up the courage to approach him and say hello.

“Hello there,” the man replied, and his smile was as warm as the sun.

“Are you a spy?” FN-2187 asked without preamble. FN-2187 definitely wasn’t a spy, for he was not capable of disguising his eagerness.

“Hmm. Yes, perhaps I am.” The man stroked his bearded chin thoughtfully. “From a certain point of view. You can call me ‘Ben,’ by the way.”

* * *

FN-2187 grew older, but Ben never seemed to change. This did not strike him as strange, however, because at twenty-three years old, FN-2187 understood full well that the old aged differently than the young. He reckoned they’d been friends for seventeen years, and in those seventeen years, FN-2187 had grown from cadet to stormtrooper.

“An underachieving stormtrooper who’s become an embarrassment to the rest of his battalion,” FN-2187 grumbled in reply to Ben’s comment about how much progress he’d made. He gave the durasteel deck plate a vicious swipe of the mop that sent stray droplets of soapy water flying in all directions.

This was work for a cleaning droid, not a stormtrooper. FN-2187 didn’t quite understand what Captain Phasma had against him, but she always seemed to be setting him up to fail. And in any event, he was convinced she’d assigned him to janitorial duties this cycle purely to humiliate him.

“There is no inherent dishonor in menial labor,” Ben pointed out.

“Yeah, well, that’s funny ’cause this sure feels like dishonor to me!”

“You may say that, but does it _feel_ true? Search your feelings and trust them to guide you in distinguishing between right and wrong.”

FN-2187 rolled his eyes and gave the decking another wet, slopping swipe with the mop. He appreciated that Ben kept him company and said such interesting, thought-provoking things whenever he wasn’t off on covert intelligence-gathering operations or whatever it was that he did for the First Order. Really, he did. But sometimes? Sometimes Ben could be extremely annoying and obtuse.

Like now, for instance.

He’d started mumbling something intentionally unintelligible when his wrist comlink beeped. It was FN-2003. “Hey, guess what? You’ve been recalled to active duty. We’re being deployed to Jakku.”

“Why Jakku? Oh, never mind. That’s great! Thanks, Slip,” FN-2187 said into his comlink. “I’ll be right there!” Then, to Ben: “Sorry, but I gotta go. We can discuss my feelings some other time, okay?”

“Very well,” Ben agreed easily, smiling his customary, warm smile. “Some other time. In the meantime—trust your feelings to guide you.”


End file.
